


Picking Daisies

by sweetmusings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, Dark Draco Malfoy, Dubious Consent, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Kidnapping, Love, Lust, POV Alternating, POV Second Person, Post-Hogwarts, Stockholm Syndrome, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fic Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:13:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22693090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetmusings/pseuds/sweetmusings
Summary: Valentine's Day is just around the corner, and Draco is obsessed with Hermione - but she won't even look his way. But that doesn't matter, because he's come up with a plan - and Malfoys always get what they want...My prompts were:1) Give a character something they cannot get rid of, i.e Carmen Maria Machado’s ‘’The husband stitch’’ or Nathaniel Hawthorne’s ‘The Minister’s Black Veil’’.2) Play with the form of your story like The Fallout or Carmen Maria Machado’s Inventory.3) Check out ‘’The Perfume: Story of a Murder’’ by Patrick Suskind.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36
Collections: Strictly Dramione Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange Fest





	Picking Daisies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silverandcoldone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverandcoldone/gifts).



> First off I want to thank MrsMast and Ninjaxoxo for helping me to decide what route to take my story down, your help was seriously appreciated! Secondly I want to thank shellyhpnerd / mychellefennel for beta-ing my piece and boosting my confidence! 
> 
> Finally, to my recipient, I hope I did your prompts justice - I wanted to experiment with my story form but my muse had other ideas and just stuck to the default way of writing it seems. Plus, while I've not read the book (yet) you've now got me hooked on the Perfume Netflix show!

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. As he turned his shiny new key in the lock and opened the door, he thought about how much better he felt in himself. And how his life felt vastly improved, too. He had decided that a brand new start away from the manor would benefit him greatly, and so far he’d not been wrong. It had been quite a few years since the war had ended, and while he’d stuck it out in the manor in his own wing, something had to give. His living arrangements had been a constant reminder of the war, and just when things became somewhat dark and murky for him - the perfect solution had come to mind. It was, in a word, perfect. If he were to purchase a property for himself, it was likely that while he could have the indepence he needed - he could escape the horrors which plagued him, too. Frankly speaking, it could only be a positive; a win-win.

And so, with the advice of his father, he had found some of the best wizarding estate agents the country had to offer. Once he had procured the perfect man for the job, he set about looking for that oh-so-perfect property for himself. Just him. At times he felt lonely of course, but he saw no point in getting a tiny property, after all, one never settled for less than the best and Draco knew one couldn't guess what the future might bring. There was also the simple matter of fact that, Malfoys always deserved the best, and they always got what they want.

'Get what they want, indeed,' he trailed off, having just found an ideal property in the latest wizarding housing brochure...

Situated in Kingston upon Thames, his newly-purchased townhouse consisted of very large rooms, he wouldn’t be left lacking for space or for extra rooms, that was for certain.  
When he had originally perused the place, one feature he’d liked rather a lot was a spacious attic - it appeared to be neglected somewhat but it was of no matter, he could get someone to do up. All in all, the place oozed a simple kind of decadence. He walked up the plush stairs to the attic, and opened the door. This room was also of a nice size; cosy but not too small, he thought it was just right. The condition of it however was a different story, the floorboards were in a terrible way and were rotting, whereas the walls looked somewhat better, covered in a dark, but peeling, wallpaper. Upon inspection, Draco could only surmise that the previous owners had intended to do up this room, but had perhaps neglected to do so. He thought it peculiar that the room had been abandoned, but gave it little headspace.

Looking around again, he agreed that the large ornate window was undeniably the best feature. Situated directly across from where one walked in, it framed the room and added to its potential feel of elegance. Definitely pleasing to the eye, Draco thought, a soft smile playing about his face.

Kneeling down and examining the floorboards in closer detail and grimacing at the dust and mildew that clung to his fingertips, he shook his head. The room simply wouldn't do in its current state, and he couldn't - wouldn't - let it fall into further disrepair. Standing up and brushing off the dust from his Levi jeans - he had come to appreciate muggle fashion in recent times - he surveyed the room once again. It was looking as though he would just have to do it up. Perhaps himself, hmm. One thing he knew for certain was that this would be a labour of love, he reasoned. Standing up, he started to pace, as that word had gotten him thinking.

'Love...huh,' he spoke quietly, the word sounding foreign to him, his voice barely reverberating throughout the small room. He used to be a rather outspoken young man, but as an adult affected profoundly by the war, he preferred to adopt a soft tone and a non-threatening stance. It was rather the contrast from his days as a Death Eater, and he often wondered if those times would negate his chances of finding love. But deep down, it was something he yearned for, he reflected. It was a fact he couldn't deny any longer, while he'd had countless one night stands with various witches, they were meaningless. Like whores from a brothel, he mused. Love. He was nearing his mid-twenties now and he lamented the sheer thought of going further along in life without someone by his side. It was another thing that just wouldn't do, it seemed. He wondered idly if the list of things that wouldn’t do had the potential to get any longer than it appeared to be right now.

A few months passed and his townhouse was now suitably furnished, looking cool and suave with a lived-in feel, too. As a result, he couldn't help the small satisfied smirk that graced his face when he thought about it - it was truly fit for a Malfoy, he reasoned. Whilst the war had resulted in him treasuring life, it hadn’t dulled his sense of entitlement.

As he walked into his large kitchen, having decided that a meal was in order, he paused. Out of the corner of his eye, nailed to the wall was his calendar. With everything going on, checking it on the regular had slipped his mind. He supposed it would be an idea to at least check it… Eyes roaming across the open page, he saw it was the last day of January. Tapping the page with his wand, it flashed and the following month's schedule flashed into view, accompanied by a soft ringing tone. Perfect. As the sound faded out, Draco marvelled at the new spells being created on a regular basis. As his eyes followed the day's column by column to see whether anything important was upcoming, he stopped at fourteenth day and groaned - Valentine's day was fast approaching. A small frown marred his face at the thought and his eyes narrowed..

‘Valentines Day...' he muttered. It was the one day where people tended to throw themselves at him in one way or another, and it irritated him. On many past occasions, the women who tried to initiate something had barely caught his attention, let alone hold any sort of interest and so of course, he had admittedly come to resent that particular holiday. All in all, it was a constant reminder that he had no-one. As he commuted to work the next day, talk between fellow colleagues about what they were doing with their respective others on the day niggled at him. That was all well and good, but… He had no-one to do anything with. To spend time with. And if he was blunt? It drove him mad inside.

The fourth of February approached with its brisk chill, along with it came a sense of there being something looming on the horizon. Draco just wished he knew what the something was, for it left him relatively on edge.

As he brushed shoulders with a certain Hermione Granger in the corridors of their department later that day, a thought - no, an idea of sorts, bloomed rapidly in his head. Whilst sat at his desk not long after the occurrence, he found that he couldn’t shake the brunette from his mind. He blamed it on the daisies and honey he could smell whenever she walked by. That accursed scent. However, it only served to plant the seeds of interest in and around his thoughts and brain - he could almost feel the newly sprouted vines twisting and turning…

It was nothing more than a simple interaction, they’d barely nodded at one another, for Merlin’s sake! And yet, and yet… Shaking his head as he eyed his papers, Draco knew he was in trouble. How was it that something so mundane and everyday was leading him further and further down the rabbit hole into obsession? Of no return? He sighed, and at that moment while he knew something was going to happen, he had no idea of what that chance meeting would lead him to do. To what extent things would change, how their lives would end up intertwining with one another...

He had become fascinated by the soft lulling scent of daisy, and honey. Often imaging himself running his hands through her curls, breathing in her smell, his thoughts and daydreams snowballed. One night as he lay in bed, his hand fisted around his hard cock, he groaned as Granger - Hermione, came to mind again. He could almost taste honey, and he moaned. As he rapidly moved his hand in the oh-so-familiar motions, everything seemed to feel more intense than normal, and before he knew, he came with a muffled yell. Fuck. At that moment, he knew he needed her, one way or another.

As time passed, more flowers came at increasing amounts by owl post, often from multiple owls at one time, and before Draco knew it, the attic was filled with many boxes. He smiled. Going through the different packages, he inhaled the scents of each variety - an assortment of daisies, roses in shades of red and orange, purple and many more filled the dozens of boxes. He was still waiting on some Ranunculus, Camellia, and Peonies, but he could get a head start on with what he had so far.

The next few days were spent deciding where to place the hanging wall vases, and how to organise the plentiful collection of flowers he'd amassed. Looking around his refurbished attic, he smiled. He loved it when a good plan started to come together nicely and to make things better, he knew exactly how he could solve his issue. The hanging vases were now in place across the attic walls as a result of some powerful sticking charms. Filled with the loveliest of flowers, the room had started to take shape and Draco could not be happier with how things were coming along.

During his shifts, he had found crafty ways and excuses to be closer to Hermione. They had minor interactions and would regularly come across one another in the canteen. Sometimes, they would share the odd greeting. What irritated Draco greatly was that for the most part, she would not give him the time of day. He was a Malfoy, damnit, ignorance or avoidance wasn’t something he was used to. She was beautiful, however, and her evasiveness resulted in him feeling more enamoured with her. In the past week, his fascination had warped into a depraved yet deep-rooted need. He just could not deny it to himself, his brain and his heart any further - he wanted her. Needed her so badly that he felt something in him would break down into pieces if he couldn’t have her.

As Draco added some soft lights to the ceiling, he smiled - it was finished. The rotting floorboards had long been vanished and replaced, and covered with a deep grey carpet from wall to wall. The walls themselves prior to the addition of the vases were furnished with butterflies against a blue backdrop. The lights, upon inspection, turned out to be petrified faeries, their lights still going strong. Draco knew this was a rather extreme method of accentuating the beauty of the flowers, but he felt that their resonance suited the aesthetic of his attic quite well, and so they stayed put, hopefully forever if he had anything to say about it.

The morning of the tenth approached and there was less of a chill in the air, for which Draco was thankful. As he walked to the nearest floo point with his hands in his coat pockets, he was lost to the thoughts swirling in his mind. Was his plan going to go smoothly, would there be any complications? A smaller voice rang out in the back of his head, questioning whether he was doing the right thing, but was quelled. He thought of honey and daisies yet again and knew his decision was cemented.

As the end of his shift approached, he hung back under the premise of doing further work - but in reality he was triple checking his plan. He was rather surprised when he saw Hermione pack up her items an hour earlier than normal. It was only four oclock, after all. He knew she was quite the hard worker and loved to put more work in than the average worker. Smirking to himself, he packed up his items as well. After they walked out of the Ministry, him tailing Hermione from a distance of course, he noticed a side alley coming up on their left. This was the perfect opportunity to exact his plan, nodding to himself, he pointed his index finger at Hermione. As she was a mere couple of metres away from him, his wandless spell to induce dizziness held true and hit her in the back. She stumbled.

Holding back the urge to smirk like the cat who had just got the cream, he rushed over to her. ‘Granger, are you alright? You look rather dizzy and…’

She looked up at him from where she had fallen, her face a mix of sweetness and confusion. ‘Malfoy, what…?’

‘It’s alright, Granger. I’ve got you. You were looking rather peaky before, I was thinking about going over and asking if you were okay and… Well, anyway, I can take you back to your flat, if you want?’

Draco had been under that spell once himself, thanks to an old Death Eater wanting to test the spell’s effectiveness on him - so he had a very good idea of how Hermione was feeling right now. It was likely that thinking clearly, let alone walking straight, would be a great struggle.

‘I… Yeah, Malfoy, that would be great, it seems I’m feeling worse than I thought. Must be... all the hours I’ve been putting in…’ she staggered a bit.

Draco gently held her upright and urged her to walk, toward the nearest alleyway… He saw her eyes were shut with the effort of fighting off the dizziness and sickness, and yet again felt the urge to grin. ‘We’re nearly at a safe apparition point, Granger, you’ll be back before you know it.’ She nodded and clung to him and his words of reassurance.

A few minutes later they were safely out of view from any muggles, and Draco was nearly vibrating with pleasure and happiness as he got to hold her close to him. He knew the moment couldn’t last for long - at least, right now - so he wandlessly shot a sleep inducing spell at the back of her head. She tumbled into unconsciousness almost immediately, and it was all thanks to his forsite. Draco pulled her soft form against him as she slipped into a long sleep, and let a grin emerge. His smile felt comical and he wondered briefly, if it might go so far as to split his face in two.

After he checked to make sure she was truly asleep, he cheered. ‘At last, my beautiful Hermione, you're all mine…’ he crooned gently as he stroked her luscious mane. He knew it wouldn’t do to dwell for too long however. Fingering the handle of his wand, he focussed on the familiar attic he’d come to love. A soft crack sounded, and they were gone.

Hermione came too slowly and the first thing she registered was how lethargic she felt. As she slowly rifled through various possibilities, she could not help but think that it fit the bill of having been dosed with some kind of relaxant potion. Or a heavy sleeping potion. Maybe a stunner? With those realisations at the forefront of her mind, she shuddered.

The second thing she became aware of after opening her eyes, was that she had no idea of her location. This was most certainly not her flat and she could have screamed her throat out at that realisation. It was dim and sparsely furnished. One thing she noticed, however, was that the walls consisted of a dark wallpaper of sorts - but that was not what stood out the most. The more Hermione adjusted to the lack of sufficient light, her attention was captured by various flowers which seemed to be competing with one another to fill up the walls. They really were very pretty, she mused.

Having decided she wanted to go over and examine them up close, she shakily moved to get up. Bitterly wishing she knew what time it was, she pushed the thought aside as she concentrated fully on trying to get onto her hands and knees. Maybe she could work up the strength to stand up soon…

Suddenly the door opened and her head whipped around. There was a brief flash of light from what she assumed was a hallway, and she gasped as the person’s silhouette was illuminated. ‘I - You - Malfoy? You - What’s going on here?’ She all but yelled. After she spoke, flashes of passing out earlier assaulted her and she became more and more agitated.

‘Is that any way to speak to the gentleman who saved you when you fainted outside the Ministry, Hermione?’ She noted with a hint of revulsion that his irritating drawl hadn’t changed a bit in all of the years they’d grudgingly known each other. Hermione snarled, trying with little success to stand up. ‘I… I know you were the one who hit me with a heavy sleeping spell, I’m not stupid!’ She fumbled for her wand desperately, and with a sense of growing horror she realised it was no longer on her person.

‘My wand. Where is it!’ Her day had gone from good to bad, and the situation she found herself in bode nothing good for her, she knew that much. She glared at the man...Malfoy. The prick. Just what did he want with her, anyway?

‘My my, so much to say, you’re so fiesty, aren’t you,’ he smirked, looking down at her. She saw no sense of malice in his eyes and yet, something about this really did not feel right at all. ‘Were you looking for this?’ He twirled her wand about and the lights came on, and Hermione could not help but gasp. Flowers filled the majority of the walls and were emphasised by the choice of lighting, of which there was no shortage. Whilst the meanings of the flowers freaked her out - she could think about that later - she was further outraged by the lights themselves.

‘Petrified fairies? Are you insane?’ She all but yelled back.

‘Insane? Oh no, sweetheart, although I am rather taken with you…’ As he stalked closer to her, Hermione felt a bead of sweat go down her back. She managed to get on one knee, but her right leg was still shaky. Fuck. She nearly fell but stopped herself with her right arm, which currently seemed to protest at being moved around just yet.

He was getting closer. And closer… She dreaded what was going to happen next. She had to do something - she needed to do something. Why wouldn’t he give her her wand back? Why was he being like this, why was this…

Draco had knelt down to her and kissed her, one hand cupping her chin. She froze, and her internal monologue had screeched to a halt in a mere second.

Then she was back and she didn’t feel frozen anymore and felt overcome with anger. It built up inside like a raging storm and before she could even process anything further a burst of magic escaped from her, knocking Draco clean off his feet.

She spat on the spot where Draco had been standing, and attempted to get up. This time she was successful and she ran toward the doorway. In her blind panic to get out she’d neglected to think of her wand, or whether Draco had been knocked out at all. Her blood went cold as she felt a strong presence behind her. When did that happen? She whipped around, but the bastard behind her was faster.

‘I didn’t want to have to do this,’ he muttered darkly in her ear. ‘Stupefy.’ As the spell came into instant contact with her head, her world went black again.

Draco watched her as she slept. Hermione’s face had been marred with worry lines and her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and panic just moments before, but now there was a semblance of reluctant peace about her, despite her circumstances, and it pleased him. If only she could have stayed calm before, too… But, he imagined things would change in time. He was a very patient man and had all the time in the world to give to her. And he would, it was something he’d make sure of. He wasn’t a stupid man and he knew what he was doing was wrong, but along the way it was as though his sense of morality had dwindled down to near nothing. It all boiled down to the simple fact of need. He had the woman of his dreams in his clutches and couldn’t bear to let her go. No, he wouldn’t be letting her go, and over time he’d make her see that it wouldn’t be happening. He could only hope that eventually, she’d not want to leave him.

Hours passed, and his lovely witch slowly came to from the stunner. His eyes lit up as he continued to watch her, her every movement was like that of a graceful swan to him, even when he imagined she thought otherwise. As he observed her rubbing her eyes and muttering to herself, he decided to make his presence known. As he shifted and crossed his legs, he saw her eyes lock onto his and if one listened in they likely would’ve heard a pin drop. Hermione backed away from him until she was at a suitable distance, and then she stood up. If she thought she was going to get away, she was sorely mistaken...

Deciding that now was as good a chance as any, he stood up and walked over to her, his footsteps almost echoing in the room. 'And just what,' he spoke quietly with a hint of a threat, 'did you think you were doing, Hermione?'

She felt panic bloom in the form of sweating and fought to keep her tone steady. "Ah, I just wanted to look at the flowers,’ she finished lamely, or so she thought.

Draco’s stern expression softened, and Hermione wondered for a moment whether there was a moment she could use to initiate an escape. ‘'Ah, well I chose them because they reminded me very much of you, I felt they’d look rather nice in here. Do you not think so?’ He pressed, still walking closer, although the steps were slower and carried less of an echo now. Her hope still ignited, she decided to humour him and the line of topic the conversation had started to go down.

Hermione looked around at the many flowers and admitted to herself that it was all rather tastefully done, even if she felt unnerved and uncomfortable whenever she delved into the choices made. Licking her dry lips so as not to let them become chapped, she walked up to some and gazed at them further. Perhaps if she did so, she could get lost in them and escape this bad dream.

But she knew it wasn’t as simple as that, and so she turned around after a few minutes - she assumed - and gazed at a spot past his shoulder. ‘They are lovely...M-Draco…And you got them for me, I assume? I don’t hear any house elves, you did this yourself?’ She bit back the sarcastic snipe at the back of her mouth just waiting to escape, wanting to insult him, to hurt him, she knew it wouldn’t end well if she did so…

She was taken aback when a genuine smile lit up the man’s face, although his eyes had taken on a faraway look, they seemed to promise sweet dreams. She watched Malfoy - no, Draco, she had to keep him calm so she could escape at some point - opened his mouth and…

‘I did, I’ve been fascinated by your beauty for some time, and I wanted to get only the best for you, it’s something you deserve...and I… I want to be that someone, I want to love you...please let me... love you?’ The last two words came out as a whisper, and she had to strain her ears to catch them, and as she did, her eyes bugged. How on earth could she love him when he’d done such twisted things to her? The man had to have a few screws loose, she surmised, biting back the urge to laugh.

She settled on glancing at the attic door and the soft glare of light emanating from the corridor, and wondered what on earth to say in turn. Just what did one say to a kidnapper who had a creepy obsession with them? She was the smartest witch of her age and yet she was coming up with blanks - it drove needles of uncertainty through her, which scared her. It was something she hadn’t felt since the final battle, and she’d hoped to never feel such fear again.

Hermione was startled out of her inner thoughts by his - Draco’s voice interrupting her. ‘...You realised yet?’ she looked directly at Draco, briefly startled.

‘I...what?’ she asked softly. ‘Realised what?’ she tested.

A worryingly sweet smile was plastered on his face, and Hermione could’ve sworn she felt physical pain from the nails her emotions were driving into her. .

"Ah-ah, please now, try and stay calm now, won't you? Anyway… ah, yes. I have no plans of letting you leave here… that is, not right now, anyway. By here, I mean this property. I mean, perhaps if you’re good, I’ll let you roam the house, but… no, not anytime soon, my witch.’

The silence was deafening, and as Hermione struggled to process the words Draco had just spoken, but eventually the words spilled out of her with no control.

'You foul, loathsome bastard, let me out of here! I know you have my wand, where is it!'  
Hermione screamed and proceeded to launch herself at him; she was spurred on even further by Draco’s raised eyebrow which seemed to be egging her on. She was able to get a few punches to his chest in before she was stopped by the prick grabbing her wrists like it was nothing. And perhaps it was, but it left her feeling so raw, and angry. The dawning realisation that he’d taunted her by letting her feel she actually had a chance, had her feeling powerless. Feeling that way was something Hermione despised, and it took all of her control to not give in to her anger any further.

Before Hermione was really aware of it, the anger she felt gave way to sadness, and the sadness gave way to tears, and soon they were running down her face for what felt like forever. Hiccuping, she landed a kick to his leg and cried. ‘You do all this to me, you hold me here, l-like this, and you - you expect me to love you…? You seriously expect that? You ask far too much of me… you’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing, that’s what you are!’ She finished with a shrill yell, snot running down her face. Draco was still clutching her wrists, although the pressure had slackened a little, she saw his eyes had widened just a fraction.

‘I'm doing this for us, you know… my pretty girl. I am sure you'll see soon…" he uttered softly, as he watched her knee come into contact with his crotch. Howling in pain, he let go fully. Watching her run out the door was amusing however, as he knew she wouldn’t be able to get out… In fact, very shortly she’d encounter wards that would transport her right back to the flower-filled attic, where he knew she’d be spending a lot of her time.

It had taken a lot of planning, and perhaps a couple of illegally procured portkeys, but it had all been successful. There was a low ping from his wand and he knew the wards had activated. Three, two, one… She was back in the room and looked completely and utterly disorientated. He grinned at her, he couldn’t resist the urge so he decided he may as well give in.

‘What...How? What kind of wards do you have in this place?!’ She screamed at him, and in a few short seconds he was there, his arms around her, and he felt her shudder in his arms.

Hermione was horrified, this man had some crazy-level wards in place, and to top it of she had just been pulled into his arms. Everything seemed to move in slow-motion, and she froze. His hands, oh god. His hands. They were stroking her hair, her back, going down…

She shuddered again and felt tears in her eyes. She screamed in frustration at the situation she was in, hoping it was all a bad dream. It had to be a nightmare. She wanted to be anywhere but here, anywhere, anywhere, anywhere…. She knew that she was on the verge of a breakdown, that was for certain. It seemed the nightmare had come to stay, its black and grey tones seeping into her world slowly but surely.

How long would it be before everything was stained for good? She shuddered and curled in on herself. She was vaguely aware of a kiss to her forehead and the sound of footsteps becoming quieter and quieter...

It started off gradually, at first. Slowly but surely, though, Hermione had retreated into herself, having resigned herself to the way things were developing. She now wished she’d taken runes and wards further, so she might have had a decent chance of overcoming the imposed wards that surrounded this place, but alas… Biting her tongue so she didn’t yell or scream, she held it all in.

She was sitting on the carpeted floor, dragging her index finger along the fibres. It wasn't a particularly grounding act however the repetition was soothing - it had to count for something, she figured. The room she had been confined in was rather barren - the flowers offered no reassurance in their presence. One fiber, two fiber, three fiber, four….

Her musings would be permeated by soft whispers by the the blonde-haired man that had managed to land her in a very dark place. As she stared blankly at the peonies and roses directly in her line of sight, she wondered why she'd even entertained the thought of there being a way to pass time, to begin with. From what she had gathered, she was trapped in the attic of Draco Malfoy’s house, a man who had this deep and messed up obsession with her, and to top it off, all possible escape routes were warded to prevent her leaving.

He’d come in frequently during the day and the night, he’d talk to her and hold her close. She’d given up resisting, as it was easier to just let things happen. The feeling of his touch sent shockwaves of revulsion through her body, it would reverberate through her skin, her body, her bones… She felt trapped, and she despised it. Everything seemed to feel like it was closing in, enveloping her and… She thought a few days had passed by now, if her memory served her right. That would make it the….what, thirteenth, now? She pondered. She shook her head, and counted from one to one thousand, and to keep herself occupied further, she decided to count backwards, too. It was another grounding tactic, but she didn’t feel very safe.

Draco held Hermione close, savouring the way she felt against him. These moments were rare, but that made them all the sweeter. She was oh-so-soft in his arms and her curls were simply begging to have fingers run through them. Doing just that, he slowly moved his free hand to the top of her head, the other still holding her flush to him. He let a quiet moan escape as he continued to hold her to him, if only he could have a souvenir of the moment being shared...

Her hair felt so nice, he thought absently as he curled a lock of it in his fingers. Oh yes, he could get used to this. It was a pleasant thing, Draco mused, that Hermione had finally come to her senses. Draco could hear Hermione's heart thumping, and pulled away to look at her. He simply couldn't resist taking in her features yet again. The way her brown eyes widened with uncertainty and fear, her soft lips…

He was getting lost in his obsession again, he decided. Continuing to look at her, however, he pointedly ignored the way she shook. Suddenly, he saw tears make their way down her face, and he couldn't have that, now. Breathing in through his nose, he continued to stare into her eyes as she, in turn, was still shaking. Leaning in close and relishing the feel of her body heat, he tenderly licked each of her tears away. It would have resembled something like love were the circumstances not so warped.

Hermione felt like the walls were closing in, the nightmare she was in had only gotten worse - she knew that she was on the verge of a breakdown if things carried on in this manner. It seemed the nightmare had come to stay, its black and grey tones seeping into her world slowly but surely. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could see those four walls being contaminated with those aforementioned awful, morbid colours.  
How long would it be before everything was stained for good? She shuddered and curled in on herself. Again. She seemed to be doing that a lot recently, and eventually, everything seemed to merge together in a sort of haze.

Hermione woke up to the sound of approaching footsteps. She found the sound to be startling to her rather sentitive ears and was tempted to cover her ears to block it out, but refrained. Looking up warily, she saw Draco approaching her with what appeared to be a present of some kind. The surprising part was that he had a cake levitating in his wake. This was… odd, for the lack of a better word. She saw him grab the cake which cancelled the levitation spell. As he knelt down and got comfortable directly across from her, he deposited the desert by her legs and she stared blankly for a moment before shaking herself out of her head. It had become more of a challenge for her to do that, it seemed.

‘Morning, sweetheart. I bought you some cake to enjoy,’ he finished, handing over the red card, and a small present.

‘That’s nice…’ Hermione trailed off, eyeing everything suspiciously. ‘So, did you get a house elf to make that for you? Or did you feel like joining us mudbloods via some common ground by making it yourself?’ She spat out, eyes now on the cake. She supposed it did look rather nice; it was a victoria sponge cake cut in the shape of a heart, surrounded by strawberries and on top lay a sort of pale pink icing. There was more, though. Topping off the rather decadent cake was a message in red, _Happy Valentines Day, My Love._

Focusing on her card so as to not have to look at the man sat across from her for now, she ripped open the envelope and read the card’s contents. She’d expected something….well, no, she wasn’t sure what to have expected but a whole poem dedicated solely to her, it left her feeling rather creeped out. Perhaps in different circumstances, this might have all been very nice, but…

She felt something touch her knee and was snapped out of her musings.  
‘You can open this now if you like,’ she heard him say, his hand retreating from her knee - only then did she set the card down on the carpet, and look at him.

The range of expressions she’d seen the man cycle through was startling, currently there was no trace of malice or threat, but there was something surprisingly earnest there in the depths of his eyes, amongst the madness. Starting directly at him, she nodded.

‘A-alright. I’ll open it, I… thank you, Draco.’

As she pulled at the black bow and proceeded to open the red wrapping paper - it really was rather pretty, she reasoned. Once she had taken the lid off the small, long box, she gasped. Inside the box lay an ornate, red crystal necklace surrounded by gold which was fashioned like a teardrop.

‘I, it is beautiful… I…’

‘Shall I put it on for you?’ He asked her, his head cocked to one side.

Sensing that his question was more of a demand, she nodded, not trusting herself to speak any further. As Draco leaned in closer and fastened the clasp around her neck, she fought the urge to shudder. His fingers lingered for a few seconds more than needed and just as her discomfort began to escalate, he pulled away, smiling at her and the action made her feel sick. Some time later, he walked out of the room, whistling softly.

Time passed in a most uncomfortable silence, whilst she was sure that Draco was rather happy at the way things were developing, Hermione couldn't have felt any worse. She wanted nothing more than to block this out but with his near-frequent presence intruding upon her very being, that was proving quite the struggle.

Draco grinned as he walked away whistling from the beautiful brunette in his attic. It had only been four days, but she seemed to have calmed down some. Hopefully it wouldn’t be long now before she broke, and she’d accept things for what they were - that she would be - no, she was now his. If he knew anything about Gryffindors, it was that their brave hearts knew all about fighting for what was right - doing what was right. While it seemed her lioness self was climbing the walls in homage to her roots, her very being, it looked as though Hermione was starting to calm down further, and hopefully the more she did, the more she would open up to him, and if that happened… He only hoped that if he could tame her in whole - then it would be possible to gain her heart. And if not, well… at least he’d still have her. And that was better than nothing at this point.

Time flew by and Hermione knew with clarity that if Draco were to come over

Time flew by, and Hermione could no longer give an accurate figure as to how many days she'd been held at Draco's house for. Even tracking the days via watching the sky and the moon had grown monotonous, and she’d finally lost hope of ever leaving the place that seemed to have become her new home. The flowers became her friends, she’d spend a lot of time whispering her hopes and dreams into their petals. Their lovely, colourful petals. Endless hours were filled up with her looking at each and every kind of flower Draco would bring in, she often joked out loud that he could give a florist a run for their money. And just when the novelty of them would become dimmed, their beauty would show her all over again what she’d miss by paying no attention. Feeling like they each and every one of them were now her new friends, Hermione gradually shed any potential embarrassment and poured her heart out, not just idle thoughts but her entire being, until she generally wound up on the floor crying.

Everything came to a head one day, when Draco visited her for a while. Recently he had seemed distracted but yet he had made time each day. For her. She found she had...come to like his presence, she didn’t feel so alone when she was with him. They’d just finished a conversation about the origin of names for flowers, when he excused himself to go and do something-or-other, what that was, Hermione didn’t know, but she knew that suddenly, she didn’t want him to go.

‘Draco, please wait… I…’ she paused, suddenly unsure of how to muster up her Gryffindor strength to press onwards.

He was by her side in an instant, knelt down by her and looking into her eyes. Sometimes his stare came across as predatory which sent chills of an awful kind down her spine, but today they were full of warmth as they regarded her. He lifted a hand and gently cupped her face, rubbing soft circles against her jawline with the pad of his thumb.

‘Yes, Hermione?’ He gently pressed, seemingly curious as to what it was she would say.

‘....’

‘Hermione, are you alright?’ he asked in a whisper, and she could’ve sworn she felt his voice envelope her in some form of an embrace.

‘Yes, I’m… okay. I was wondering… will you stay with me?’

Her heart felt like plummeting several stories but something in her head said that this was right, despite feeling oh-so-wrong, but she had always been one to follow what her head told her rather than her heart.

Deciding to do just that, she took initiative and leant into Draco, feeling safe thanks to the warmth he gave off. As she pressed her head into the left side of his neck and asked again if he would stay with her, she missed the look of triumphant surprise mixed with joy swirl around his face.

‘Hermione…’

‘No, no, you…. Needn’t say a thing. A long time ago, you asked me if I would love you… and I said no. In fact, I said some rather cruel things to you. But my time here with you has made me realise that I...I was all wrong! Everything I said was wrong, and I - I’m sorry, Draco... ‘ She was gripping his t-shirt now so hard it was a surprise it hadn't torn and it was taking all of her self control to not truly break down.

But everyone had a breaking point, and she’d finally met hers.

‘Hermione, I-’

A pause. And then, he gently grabbed her hands and intertwined his fingers with hers, causing her to look up. Her face awash with tears, she could barely see clearly. The watery, blurry face just inches away came closer…

And then, he started to whisper gently to her, and it was like everything she needed was right in front of her. He’d take care of her. He’d love her. He accepted her apologies without so much as a blink of an eye. It brought so much relief and elation to her now shaking frame, that she couldn’t bear to look at him, even if it was through watery eyes. Honestly, she just needed a moment, Or maybe two…

Hermione had come to the decision that the soft digits of his fingers caressing the skin of her hands was quite soothing, rather than repulsive like it had felt before.

Draco gently pulled his fingers away and wiped her tears away, kissing her eyes and cheeks.

The action left her with dare she say love blooming in her heart, she must have lost all rationality, she reasoned - but she just didn’t care anymore. In front of her was a man who’d promised to love her and never let her go, to take care of her needs and do right by her. She wanted safety and stability like nothing before, and while she’d had stability for the past few weeks in that attic, she wanted something more. That was when she pulled his face to hers by his flawless hair and kissed him.

Hermione smiled as she walked around the house, the weather looked lovely today and it cast a pleasant light in the hallways and rooms. Sitting down with her legs crossed on one of the many sofas in the sitting room, she picked up a new novel Draco had bought for her. _Sense and Sensibility_ by Jane Austen - she had vague memories of her parents discussing this book with her.... No, no. Shaking her head subtly, she banished the thoughts away and decided to bury herself in her new book. They were memories of a different time, a different life, she was rather thankful to Draco for showing her how much better things could be. She often longed to take a step out of the house, and while Draco had told her she was allowed, his prior words from all that time ago always caused her to stop short. It had been a long time since she’d been outside and felt the fresh air upon her, but she’d also come to realise that she didn’t need that, since everything that gave her happiness was all inside the townhouse she lived in.

Suddenly she was bought out of the world she’d immersed herself in by Draco knocking on the living room door. Looking up, she saw him grin at her as he walked in, setting down his briefcase. ‘Hermione!’

‘Oh, you’re back! Hello, Draco,’ she grinned back. As she got up off of the sofa and pulled him into her arms, she revelled in how happy she felt in them and in the waves of safety he exuded.

She looked up in intrigue as he pulled away from her, he wasn’t normally one to cut their embraces short, especially since he knew how much she loved them. She had not originally been such a clingy person, but her time here had changed all of that. She now craved attention, love, positive affirmations and cuddles.

‘Where did I put it…’ he muttered. A few moments later, he was triumphant and before she realised what was going on, he was handing her a small present, and a red card.

Hermione’s heart thumped and she felt her cheeks grow warm. A foreign feeling of dread settled in her stomach, but she ignored it steadfastly. Had it really been a year since then? ‘How time flies,’ she said softly. She’d missed him, his absences felt like years and weighed down on her. Her perception of time felt skewed and as a result she always looked forward to the time they got to spend with each other. She cherished it immensely, in fact. As they retreated to the bedroom, her novel forgotten, she was thankful.

As they helped each other remove the other’s clothing, Draco was ecstatic as he held her close to him. It had taken some time, but they’d gotten there together. He’d finally tamed his lioness, and had found true happiness.


End file.
